


Hell Hath No Fury

by Nny



Series: Month 1: Quantity (tumblr fic) [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nny/pseuds/Nny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has a new relationship in his life. Stiles' friends don't take it well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Hath No Fury

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notmissmarple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmissmarple/gifts).



Derek almost chokes on his beer when a hand grabs his arm out of nowhere, but he recognizes the scent before he reacts, uses the _perfume-hospital-anxious_ to orient himself so he can smile politely when he turns to greet her. 

“Melissa.” 

“Hey honey,” she says, and leans in to kiss his cheek like it’s familiar, like it’s something they do all the time. Derek can’t help but stiffen, draws back a little on his stool, feels her fingers tighten warningly on his bicep. 

“This is my - er - Derek,” she says, smiling at a man in maroon scrubs that clash badly with the flushed cheeks under close-set eyes, his mouth turned down in an unfriendly scowl. 

“Dr Boyle,” the man says, holding out a hand, and actually has the balls to tighten his grip when Derek shakes it, and for that - and his taste - Derek has to respect him a little. Doesn’t stop him from squeezing the hell out of the handshake, though, leaving him shaking out his hand and whining a little around the edges of his breaths. 

“Just here with some colleagues,” Melissa explains brightly, but there’s an apology in her eyes; the mischief it’s layered with means it doesn’t count for much.

“Then I guess I’ll see you later,” Derek says, as charming as he can make it, and she’s laughing a little under her breath when she turns away. 

“Um, Jeremy?” He’s already edging away when she says she’ll meet him back with the others, and she turns to Derek and pushes a hand through her hair. 

“Look, I’m sorry about that. He’s married and a weasel and he doesn’t take no well, so I figured it was easier to find some conveniently single friend to - and hey! Here you are.” 

“Here I am,” Derek says. 

“Look, you’re a life saver. Can I buy you a drink?” 

He knows she’s not - she’d never, but it’s kind of a perfect opportunity to say it anyway. He’s been wanting to a while now.

“I’m good,” he says, and lifts his bottle a little. “Also, not single.” 

Melissa freezes, bright smile cemented in place, and he can’t read whatever expression she’s trying to hide. 

“Oh?” she says. “Is it serious?” 

Derek ducks his head, the ridiculous warm feeling that’s taken up residency in his stomach reaching up to paint a smile on his face. 

“Yeah, I really think - yeah.” 

When he looks up he frowns. Her face has fallen like he’s given her the worst news, and how much does Scott tell her, anyway? He knows he doesn’t have the greatest record, but this time - 

“Does Stiles know?” she asks, a little stiffly, and he grins again. 

“Yeah, he -”

“I, um, I have to -” she pulls her cellphone out of her pocket and waggles it a little at him, already turning away, but she doesn’t start talking until the heavy door of the bar has thudded closed behind her, shutting off Derek’s chance of knowing what the hell that was all about. 

 

*

 

**Shd hv tld me 1st**

It’s from Scott. No one else he knows spells that badly. It took a little while for them to get to this point, to exchanging numbers and email addresses, but these days Derek gets to gauge Scott’s reactions to things by the level of aggravating spam in his inbox, the number of call backs from market research companies, which is probably a change for the better. 

Derek waits for the next red light and quickly taps out a reply. 

**Your mom asked**

The phone buzzes against the seat again almost immediately, but before Derek can check it there’s a flash of blue light in his rear-view mirror, the warning momentary blat of a siren. Derek frowns and pulls over to the side of the road and gets out, walks towards the familiar patrol car. 

“Sheriff?” 

“Derek.” His voice is flat and unfriendly, and it’s like he’s traveled back in time five years. 

“Something wrong?” 

“You tell me.”

“I - honestly don’t know,” Derek says, squinting into the headlights, but Sheriff Stilinski still takes off sunglasses to lean in close to him, examine his expression like he’s looking for signs of guilt, and Derek’s watched enough cop shows to know that’s not a great sign. 

“You’re lucky I believe you,” the sheriff says after a moment. “For a bright guy you can be pretty damned oblivious.” 

“Oblivious to what?” Derek asks, helpless, but the sheriff turns away and gets back into his car.

“I ever find out you knew you’re gonna have parking tickets coming out of your ass,” he says, and Derek mimes his lack of understanding as the patrol car pulls away. 

“What the hell.” 

**not her i cldhv brkn it 2 him** the text still waiting for him says.

Derek seriously has no idea what that even means.

 

*

 

He’s fresh out of the shower and it takes him a second to recognize his own ring tone, because it’s not the custom selection he’s used to. 

“Hello?” he says warily. 

“Derek.” It’s Lydia. He’d had no idea she even had his number. “You remember the molotov cocktails, I trust?” 

“Of course,” he says, a shot of adrenaline making him sit upright on the couch. 

“And the genius IQ, of course, you haven’t forgotten that.” 

“No,” he says. “Lydia, what -”

“Good,” she says. “Glad we’ve got that sorted. It’s important for you to remember that should I ever decide to kill you I’ll suffer no repercussions whatsoever. Night, Derek!”

He’s still staring at the phone when the front door clicks open, the twin thumps of trainers hitting the floor quickly followed by Stiles vaulting over the back of the couch. Derek lifts his arm before he even thinks about it so Stiles can slide underneath, as automatic as if their bodies had known they were together before they’d ever admitted it. 

“You haven’t told them,” he says, finally.  
“No,” Stiles says. “But apparently you have.” His tone is so transparently delighted, so thoroughly soaked in happiness that Derek can’t even hold it against him, can’t resist ducking a little to brush a kiss against Stiles’ hair. 

“You said you would -”

“And I will,” Stiles says easily. “I promise. Next week.” 

“Next _week_?” 

Stiles twists to look up at him, earnest expression and puppy dog eyes. 

“Do you know, Derek, how often Lydia cooks?”

Derek frowns. 

“Lydia cooks?” 

“One time she made cookies and I swear to all that’s holy it was like a higher being had come down and jizzed on my tongue.” 

“ _Stiles_.”

“She’s making me _heartbreak_ cookies, Derek. You can’t ask me to give that up.” 

Derek blinks, processes this. 

“So everyone knew you - ?”

Stiles sits up a little, turns towards him. 

“Derek, I’ve been in love with you basically forever,” he says, lightly, casually, like it’s no big deal. “It’s not like I’ve ever been great at hiding it.” 

“You hid it from _me_ ,” Derek says, carefully. 

“Yeah well,” Stiles says, fond grin lighting up his face, “for a bright guy you can be pretty oblivious.” 

Derek leans in to kiss him, because what else can he do? And it’s exactly as perfect as it’s been every other time, like something he never knew was missing is clicking back into place. Stiles smiles against his mouth, pulls back and strokes his cheek, and the look in his eyes is something Derek never thought he’d ever see aimed at him. 

“And whatever Danny did to your credit card,” Stiles says tenderly, “I promise I’ll try to reverse it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr [here](http://villainny.tumblr.com), come say hi!


End file.
